


one for the money, two for the show

by Champagne



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dress shopping, Gen, Group Bonding, Martin has a crush and isn't subtle, Season/Series 01, supportive friends, vague mentions of dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-04-23 00:40:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Champagne/pseuds/Champagne
Summary: Sasha waited patiently just beside them, and frowned when Jon stiffened, Tim barked a laugh, and Martin paled. “Well? What does it say?”“‘Tasteful Crossdressing’,” Tim said, and laughed again. “I submitted that one.”-In which Sasha helps her coworkers find dresses that are comfortable, bonding happens both on and off screen, and Jon feels better about himself with the help of his...friends?
Comments: 14
Kudos: 273





	one for the money, two for the show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeanMeanSaltineMachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeanMeanSaltineMachine/gifts).

> Happy late birthday, Lee! Almost a month late isn't too bad, all things considered. I hope you like it!

Elias held out the tophat, filled with folded slips of paper, and Jon heaved an aggrieved sigh and stuck his hand in.

“What is this for?” he asked, his tone teetering on the edge of curt. He pulled out a slip and held it up, and Elias plucked it from his hand with a smile.

“The Magnus Institute Halloween Celebration,” he said, and unfolded the paper with one deft hand. “One of our benefactors expressed interest in possibly opening our doors to the public once or twice a year, for positive exposure.” His smile tilted up at one corner, shaping into something closer to a smirk but not quite getting there. He held out the paper to Jon, who took it with another aggrieved sigh.

Tim and Martin leaned closer, tall enough to read over Jon’s shoulders. Sasha waited patiently just beside them, and frowned when Jon stiffened, Tim barked a laugh, and Martin paled. “Well? What does it say?”

“‘Tasteful Crossdressing’,” Tim said, and laughed again. “I submitted that one.”

“And it made it _in_?” Martin asked, his voice high and strained. He looked at Elias, who still had that not-quite-a-smirk on his face. “H-how--”

“It does say ‘tasteful’, Martin,” Elias said, and chuckled. It grated against Sasha’s nerves in an odd way that made her want to shudder, but she suppressed it. “I’ll email the specifics of the celebration later today. I expect all of you to be present, when the day comes.” He gave Jon, still stiff and staring at the paper, a pointed look, and then turned and walked off without another word.

“Alright!” Tim clapped his hands together in his exuberance, and both Jon and Martin jumped. “Hell yeah! Dress shopping!”

“You’re awfully excited about this,” Sasha pointed out, and crossed her arms. “I mean, I just have to wear a suit, I suppose, but you three--”

“Dresses!” Tim whooped, and Jon finally shifted, glaring up at Tim with a deep resentment darkening his face. Tim was unperturbed. “Oh come on, Jon, it’s not the end of the world!”

“Speak for yourself,” Martin muttered, but Tim didn’t seem to hear it.

“It’s all in good fun! Come _on_.” Tim broke out his puppy eyes and directed them straight at Jon, who stared back without blinking.

“Does it have to be dresses?” Martin asked, and sounded faint enough that Tim looked at him with a new concern crossing his expression.

“No, I don’t think so. Dresses are just the easiest.” Tim put his hand on Martin’s shoulder and squeezed. “Alright?”

Martin sighed, and gave a wobbly smile. “Mostly?”

“We can all go together,” Sasha suggested. Jon turned sharply and redirected his glare at her, but a lot of the power had faded and he just looked tired and uncomfortable. “We can help each other pick out what to wear.”

Jon inhaled, but it came out in a harsh sigh instead of any words.

“No surprises,” Sasha added. “We’ll all know what we’re wearing before Halloween.” She put her hands on Martin’s arm, then Jon’s, and smiled at them. “It’ll be fun, promise.”

“Al-alright, I guess.” Martin nodded, and some color had returned to his face.

Sasha heard Jon say, “This is a colossal waste of time…” under his breath, but then he nodded as well and crossed his arms.

“Hell yeah!” Tim grinned and threw his arms into the air, letting them fall across Jon and Martin’s stiff shoulders. He pulled them closer and they both went, Jon more reluctantly than Martin. “Team bonding!”

Sasha laughed as Jon pinched Tim’s arm until he let him go.

* * *

Jon sat himself down on the ratty couch outside of the changing room and crossed his arms. Tim plopped down beside him and threw his arm over Jon’s shoulders as if it was a natural thing, and he ignored the way Jon leaned away from him.

“I guess one at a time is easier,” Sasha said, and grabbed Martin’s arm to stop him before he joined the other two on the couch. “You first, Martin. Come on.”

Martin groaned but let himself be pulled off.

The silence didn’t last more than a few seconds, before Tim said, “If you really don’t want to do this, I’m sure Sasha and I can cover for you.”

Jon blinked and turned to face him, but Tim was staring off at a random point of the second hand store, eyeballing a particularly hideous lamp. Jon spoke before his mind caught up, and all he said was, “What?”

“The celebration.” Tim glanced at him, then looked at another random object nearby. It was a wooden rocking horse, with faded paint and a cartoonish expression. “The crossdressing.”

Jon heaved a sigh and leaned back against the couch, forgetting that Tim left his arm resting there. He didn’t have the chance to pull away before Tim was dragging him closer, enough so that their knees knocked together and Tim was warm against his shoulder.

“I know Elias said he expects us to be there, but I mean it when I say Sasha and I will come up with something, if you really don’t want to go.”

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and let Tim rub his arm, trying to be comforting. “It’s--” He bit his tongue, but then decided _to hell with it_, and said, “It’s not that simple.”

“You don’t _have_ to tell me about it,” Tim said, and patted Jon’s shoulder. Jon rolled his eyes. “I’m fine with not knowing. I won’t have an aneurysm, unlike _some_ people.”

Jon glared at him, but Tim smiled in that guileless, trusting way of his that broke right through his walls of irritation, and he sighed again. “I used to have dresses,” he grumbled, and scanned the store for signs of Martin and Sasha. They were on their way back over, with their arms full of clothes, none of which were dresses. “I donated them.”

“Why is that?” Tim asked, his voice carefully neutral, but it still sounded a bit forced.

Jon shook his head. “That’s a long story I’d rather not get into.” He felt Tim shrug, his shoulder moving against his back, and felt himself start to unwind with the lack of prying.

“One dress isn’t the end of the world, is all I’m saying.” Tim grinned when Jon shot him a withering look, and laughed when Jon rolled his eyes.

“Alright!” Sasha popped out of the dressing room and was a bit flushed and glowing. “We _definitely_ found what Martin is wearing!”

The dressing room door opened a few minutes later and Martin stepped out. He was wearing his usual beat up sneakers and thick socks under a pleated white skirt that fell to his knees, with a simple white cotton shirt, and a black blazer.

Tim started clapping. Martin’s already pink face darkened, and he half hid behind the door. “Excellent! A very good look on you, Martin! I _love_ the skirt.” He waggled his eyebrows, and batted a stuffed animal out of the air when Sasha threw it at him, grabbed from the nearby display. “I’m serious!” he said, playfully offended.

Jon, against his better judgement, nodded a silent agreement. Martin’s pink face turned a frightening shade of red.

Sasha giggled. “Right? He looks amazing! Tasteful indeed!”

“I-I’m going to change now,” Martin said, and immediately disappeared back inside of the changing room.

“Me next!” Tim jumped up, waving his arm in the air.

“Alright, come on.” Sasha grabbed his arm and pulled him off, disappearing into the racks of formalwear again.

Martin emerged with the clothes draped over his arm, and he was back to being simply pink. He hesitated before taking the now empty seat beside Jon, and then heaved a sigh. “Sasha can be quite…”

Jon hummed. “Demanding,” he supplied. “Controlling.”

Martin made a noise that told Jon he didn’t quite agree. “I was thinking more…” He waved a hand in circles in the air as he thought, then said, “Take charge. You know, positive connotations.”

Jon’s mind flashed back to memories of workplace sexual harassment seminars, and hummed. “Right, yes. Sasha…” He chewed on his lip. If he opened up to Tim, he might as well take that step with Martin as well, but it felt. Different, somehow. Regardless, he said, “She knows when to put her foot down, that’s certain. I think Tim described her once as the ‘mom friend’, which is ridiculous--”

Martin laughed, startled but bright. “He said that?”

Jon huffed and crossed his arms, leaning back. “Once or twice, yes,” he grumbled.

After a moment of silence, Martin spoke, sounding like he was uncertain, but he still said, “Don’t like the implication that you’re not the parent in our dysfunctional family?”

Jon huffed again, and Martin let out a nervous little chuckle and faced forward, staring at the open door of the dressing room.

He laughed again when Jon said sourly, “I _am_ the boss, I don’t see why _Sasha_ is--” and laughed harder when Jon threw his hands up, and Jon couldn’t help but join along in the laughter. Martin’s laugh was infectious.

Tim and Sasha came back with only one article of clothing between the two of them, and they were both smiling in a teasing, knowing way as they approached. “You two look like you’re having a good time,” Tim commented, and his smile blossomed into a grin when Jon snorted and Martin rubbed the back of his neck in a familiar nervous habit.

“Did you find something?” Martin asked, to get the spotlight off of them. He motioned to the dress Tim had slung over his shoulder, and Tim put his hands on his hips and struck a triumphant pose.

“I’m going to try this on for the hell of it,” he said. “But I know it’ll fit and I’m definitely buying it.”

“We found the fancy dresses stashed in the back corner,” Sasha told them, and giggled as Tim spun with a flourish into the dressing room. “And Tim knew his own measurements, which helped a lot.”

Jon mindlessly said, “Did he now.” as he thought back to a time when he was the same way. It felt like centuries ago, even though it was just back in uni, when Georgie was more than supportive in him dressing how he felt the most comfortable. Nowadays, the thought of wearing a skirt or a dress to work made it a bit difficult to breathe, but now he didn’t have a choice.

He didn’t realize both Sasha and Martin were frowning at him until Sasha’s voice cut through his thoughts, hard and disapproving. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Jon blinked, confused for a second by their reactions, but then Tim came out with another flourish. Sasha and Martin clapped immediately, but Jon was still looking over the dress now on Tim’s body. It was a mermaid style, white with red accents in tulle and cheap lace, with the sleeves being puffs of fabric that sat just off his shoulders. The dress fit him surprisingly well for being second hand, though it was loose around his waist.

“Just because he sounds like he’s making a jab doesn’t mean he is,” Tim said, and settled into a posture that had one hip jutted out, his hand resting on it. He was the picture of comfort and confidence.

Sasha made a noise in her nose like she didn’t believe him. Tim waved her off, and did a spin.  
“You look very nice, Tim,” Sasha said, smiling again. “Those are very good colors on you.”

“Are you wearing shoes?” Martin asked, watching how the red tulle dragged along the floor in some places.

“No, but I was thinking some kind of wedge heel.” Tim bent over as much as he could to lift the train up, showing his socked feet. “An inch or two, nothing extreme.”

“Do we need to go shopping for that as well?”

“Nah, I have a pair at home.” Tim waved Martin off now, then looked at Jon. “Well? Thoughts, comments, concerns?” And he did a slower spin, leaving his arms at his sides.

Jon pursed his lips. He labeled the simmering jealousy and shoved it aside for later. “Depending on how much money you want to spend, you should take in the waist,” he said. Tim grinned, and then Jon sighed and grumbled, “It suits you.”

“Overwhelming support!” Tim disappeared back into the changing room.

Sasha blinked and went to follow after him. “Need help unzipping?”

“No, I’ve got it!” Tim called.

“How did he get it zipped up in the first place?” Martin asked in a low voice. Sasha shrugged.

“Alright Jon.” Tim emerged quickly enough, and smacked Jon’s back, making him squawk. “Your turn! Get up so I can sit down.”

Anxiety flared in his stomach. “But--”

Sasha sighed and grabbed his wrists, pulling him to his feet as Tim pushed on his back. He slid into the vacant spot and nudged Jon’s behind with his foot, which was still just socks. Jon squawked again.

“It’s not the end of the world, like I said.” Tim smiled at him and tilted his head, the picture of innocent reassurance. It irritated Jon just as much as it soothed him. “And it’s only for Halloween.”

Jon heaved a sigh. “Fine.” He motioned to Sasha, who tried to give him the same kind of smile. “Lead the way.”

Sasha brought him to the far back corner, almost the opposite of the dressing rooms, and motioned to the racks of dresses, sorted by sizes and measurements. 

She eyed him up and down, and hummed. “You look like you’re about my height, plus a few…” She put her hand on top of her head and measured herself against Jon, standing beside him. “When you’re not _slouching_,” she added, and Jon rolled his eyes and straightened his posture. “You’re about two inches taller than I am. Simple enough.”

Jon watched her start going through dresses on the rack, and she paused a few in to ask, “Any...style preferences? Colors?” She paused. “Do you know anything about dresses?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I do,” he grumbled. “The less volume the better,” he said louder. “I--” the words caught in his throat for a moment before breaking through. “--prefer sheath dresses, but empire waists are fine. Skirts are more my...style.”

Sasha was staring at him with wide eyes, but he couldn’t find any disgust or disapproval there, just surprise. She cleared her throat and blinked a few times and said, “O-oh, alright! I can work with that.” She turned to start going through the rack again. “Color preference?”

“Not really.” Jon sighed, and moved to start on the second rack.

They looked in silence for a few minutes, before Sasha finally asked, “So you’ve worn dresses before?” She sounded surprisingly nonchalant about it, hitting the mark where Tim missed it, and Jon shrugged before remembering she probably wasn’t looking at him.

“It was a long time ago,” he said. “I donated them when...I donated them years ago.”

“Oh,” she said, and the genuine sadness in her voice made his own eyes sting. “That’s a shame. I’m sorry you felt the need to.” There was a pause, too short for him to say anything in response, and then she said, “How about this one?”

What she held up was a floor length red dress covered in beads that were scattered like raindrops, catching the light. There was a split in the side clean up to the hip, and the bodice was simple boning for shape and some velvet trim along a sweetheart neckline.

Jon didn’t realize he had stopped breathing until Sasha went, “Jon, are you okay?”

Then he inhaled and stuttered out, “Uh, yes, I, yes, I’m alright.” He took the dress from her and folded it over his arm. “Let’s, let’s find another one, as a. A second option.”

Sasha tilted her head, but she smiled at him and said, “Alright, multiple choices.” She dove back into the search with renewed energy, smiling to herself. Jon stood there and ran his hand along the dress, feeling the scattered beads, until a few minutes later when she said, “Alright, how about this one?”

This dress was also mostly red, but it had an empire waist accentuated with a black ribbon tied into a bow, and the design of roses was sheer to show the black satin underneath.

“Two red ones?” Jon asked, instead of saying anything useful.

Sasha giggled. “It fits with the accidental theme we’ve made,” she said. “Martin is black and white, Tim is red and white, so now you can be red or red and black. Personally.” She paused to nudge Jon lightly with her elbow. “I like the pure red one more.”

“Oh,” was all he said, because words still failed him. The beads felt nice under his fingertips.

“Come on, let’s go try them on.” She hooked her arm around his and turned them around, hiking back over to the dressing rooms where Tim and Martin were laughing, talking about some kind of show they both watched. Sasha handed Jon the other dress and gently pushed him in to start changing, and he heard her say, “Alright, no spoilers! I’m not caught up yet!” before knocking on the door.

Jon paused in taking off his shirt. “Yes?”

“Need any help?” Sasha asked.

He paused again, then removed his shirt and started on his belt. “In a minute.”

“Alright.”

The conversation outside picked up again, and Jon opened the door just a crack when the last thing he needed to do was zip up the back. He elected for the rose patterned dress first, and Sasha commented, “It looks lovely on you.” as she hooked and zipped up the dress.

Jon just nodded, and stepped out after her. The anxiety and dread crashed up against his insides like a stormy sea and he started wringing his hands together as Martin and Tim just stared at him. Martin was slowly turning the same red as his dress.

Sasha prompted, sounding impatient, “Well?”

Tim started clapping. “God, you look _good_, Jon! Red is so your color! Wow.” He elbowed Martin, who swayed and made a high pitched keening noise that grated against Jon’s ears. “Is it comfortable?”

Jon hummed and did a short lap around the area, then a spin. Martin made that noise again, but it cut off when Tim elbowed him a second time.

“Quite,” Jon admitted.

“Try on the other one!” Sasha made shooing motions with her hands until Jon was herded back inside of the dressing room. She stuck only her arms in to undo the back before closing the door and leaving him to his devices.

“Put some long gloves with that and he could kill someone,” Tim commented from outside.

Martin made a choking noise, then said, “_Please_ don’t.”

“Aw, we wouldn’t kill you that quickly, Martin,” Sasha said, and giggled when Martin sputtered.

Jon felt his face grow hot, though he did his level best to ignore it as well as the implications behind their teasing, and pulled on the other dress. Sasha was ready and waiting for when he opened the door to zip and hook the back, but then he closed the door again. 

Sasha made a noise of confusion and asked, “Jon?”

“Give me a moment,” he said, and looked at himself in the mirror.

It fit near perfectly, though he was hardly wearing the right pants for how high the split sat. Some of the boning in the top was poking him, some internal stitches itching against his skin, but the fabric itself was soft and comfortable and the velvet trim was still in good condition all the way around the top. It had been years since he’d worn something quite like this, and staring at himself now, he felt just how much he missed it. It was an entire section of his life that he felt he had to leave behind, but from the sounds of it, from the brief experience in this second hand store, it wasn’t something that had to stay in the past.

Something flopped over the top of the dressing room door, and he grabbed it. “Gloves,” Sasha said. “Tim’s suggestion.”

Black, and cheap satin. They were a bit small on him, but they slid on easily enough and sat comfortably at the crease of his elbows.

Sasha was the first to see him when he opened the door, and she blurted out, “_Wow_.”

Jon’s face was hot and he hesitated with the door half open, but Sasha put a hand on his wrist and smiled at him, wide and bright.

Tim, similarly, practically shouted, “_Wow_!” when Jon stepped out. “You look incredible! So you’re buying this one, right? You _have_ to.”

“Needs some maintenance,” Jon mumbled, and poked at the spots along the bodice that dug in uncomfortably because of lose boning. “But...I suppose, yes.”

“Nice!” Tim stood and clapped Jon on the back, making him cough. “We can start regrowing your collection!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Tim,” Jon snapped, but it held no heat.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Martin,” Sasha said, and Martin sucked in a long breath before coughing a little.

“Right, right, yes, breathing is-- _good_.” Martin laughed, breathy and startled. “That, you look, _wow_,” he said, and motioned to Jon.

“Seems to be the general consensus,” he said, and rubbed at his arm. The gloves slid against one another without catching.

“This has been a _very_ productive day,” Tim declared, then grinned. “We should get dinner together, and maybe a drink or two.”

“I’m game!” Sasha grinned back at him.

Jon sighed when they both directed their bright grins at him, and said, “Alright, I suppose.”

Martin cleared his throat and nodded. He was still staring at Jon.

Tim threw his arms over Jon and Sasha’s shoulders and laughed. “Team bonding!”

Jon ducked under his arm and went to change back into his normal clothes with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to zyka for being a wonderful amazing beta and cheerleader
> 
> also im sorry for the americanisms in here but im american and got impatient so here we are!


End file.
